


living in dark corners (and still the sun shines through)

by torigates



Category: Bones (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 03:42:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why do all our investigations end up with us mucking around in back alleys?” he asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	living in dark corners (and still the sun shines through)

  
Booth grimaced and stepped over a puddle of… something unpleasant.

“Why do all our investigations end up with us mucking around in back alleys?” he asked.

Brennan looked up at him, shining her flashlight in his direction. “That’s hardly accurate, Booth. I’d say a relatively low percentage of our cases actually end up with us in alleys.”

Booth grumbled and kicked the ground. “It sure seems like we’re here a lot.”

“We’ve never been here before,” Brennan informed him helpfully. Booth chose to ignore her. “Dr. Hodgins said the particulates on the victim’s clothes indicate she was behind a Greek restaurant shortly before she died,” Brennan continued.

“That’s why we’re here scrounging around, and the forensic team is scoping out other possibilities, I know,” Booth said. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

They continued scanning the alleyway for another half hour before Brennan eventually declared it was unlikely their victim had been there.

Booth grimaced. “Let’s hope the forensic team had more luck.”

It was one of those cases that was dragging out over weeks. Dead end after dead end, everyone was getting frustrated.

His cell phone chirped. “Booth,” he barked into it and listened silently for a minute. “Are you sure? Yeah. Okay,” and hung up. “They didn’t find anything either,” he told Brennan. “Dammit.”

Brennan put her hand on Booth’s shoulder. “We’ll find them, Booth,” she said. “Whoever did this, we’ll find them.”

Booth smiled softly and leaned into her touch. Their partnership had always consisted of moments like these—supporting each other, helping them carry on when things got to be too much. Those moments had changed, become more frequent, more intense, more physical. They had changed too despite Booth’s promise that nothing would. Brennan was right, everything changed, and all the time.

“We’ll get them,” she said again. “We always do.”

He nodded and turned to face her. “I hate these dead end cases,” he said.

She nodded. “I know. You get impatient.”

“I get frustrated. These people deserve justice. Their families deserve to know what happened to them.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s… difficult for me too. Waiting.”

More and more their conversations were loaded like this. Double meanings, hints, entendres. Booth wondered how much was intentional. How much Brennan knew.

He had been waiting too. Waiting for Brennan. Waiting for himself. Waiting for this to be okay.

_Waiting, waiting, waiting._

Booth didn’t want to wait anymore.

He took her hand, thumb softly stroking the skin on her wrist.

Brennan watched him silently. Booth remembered a time she would have had him on his ass just for touching her. Now it seemed like they were always touching in some capacity.

He trailed his fingers up her forearm and curled his fingers around her elbow. The fabric of her jacket was coarse against his palm. He pulled her closer. Brennan stepped forward, and suddenly there wasn’t any space between them.

Booth had thought about this moment a lot. He’d be kidding himself to pretend otherwise. When he thought about the various ways and places it could happen—the lab, his office, the diner, the bar—he never thought they’d be in a dirty back alley.

That didn’t stop him from wrapping his other arm around her shoulders. It didn’t stop him from breathing in her sent, the feel of her pressed against him. It didn’t stop him from leaning down and kissing her.

It was always going to end up this way.

Brennan tilted her head back and sighed into Booth’s mouth. He could feel her hands gripping his shirt. She took another step and Booth felt his back pressed up against cool bricks. His arms were still wrapped around her body. Touching Brennan wasn’t new – touching her this much, in this way, was. He – _they_ had waited so long.

Brennan bit his lower lip and sucked it into her mouth. Booth groaned and turned them, his hands on her shoulders and one leg between both of hers, pinning her against the wall. Brennan gasped and dug her fingers into his sides, pressing their hips closer together. Booth groaned. She sucked his tongue into her mouth.

“Bones,” he gasped.

She kissed him harder. Her hands yanked on his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. Booth shivered when the cold night air touched his skin, and again when Brennan’s hands followed.

He moved his hands from her shoulders to her hips, briefly dipping his fingers below the waistline of her skirt before sliding them up. The skin on her stomach was soft and he felt the muscles jump under his touch. Brennan gasped.

“Booth,” she said. “I want you to touch me. Touch me, _please_.”

It was the ‘please’ that got to Booth. He felt his dick harden, and instinctively pressed closer to her.

His hands moved up her torso and his fingers connected to the bottom of her bra. Her fingers scratched patterns on his back, urging him on. He cupped her breasts and felt her nipples against his palms. Brennan hooked her leg around the back of his, fitting them closer together.

Finally, _finally_ things were moving fast. Her hands on his belt, his hand on her stomach sliding up, up, fumbling with a condom, gripping her knees, her breath panting his name in his ear, ‘ _More, Booth, more, I need more._ ’ Her fingers on his back, his lips on her beck and more. Always more.

When they were done Booth buried his face in the crook of her neck, afraid that when he looked at her everything would be different.

Everything _was_ different.

Brennan lowered her feet to the ground, and they stood pressed together for a long moment, her hands stroking his back. Eventually she brought her hands to his neck, cupping his skull. When she pulled back he was forced to look at her.

His partner looked back at him. Things were different, yes, but there were still _them_. They would always be Booth and Brennan. They would always be partners.

She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. Booth knew she understood.

“We should get back to the lab,” she said. “See what else Dr. Hodgins can tell us about the particulates and I can take another look at the bones.”

Booth nodded, putting his hand on the small of her back.

(For the record, they did catch the guy—they always do.)


End file.
